Numb Souls and Dreams of I Love You
by QuantumStrings
Summary: Zack is having trouble dealing with his sexuality and his longing for Freddy as well as his other personal problems. The band goes down hill, school becomes harder and tragedy will tear Zack from everything he has ever known and loved.
1. Souls Gone Numb

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters. They are the works of the filming staff of the film School of Rock.

AUTHORS NOTE: The following story contains themes which may not be suitable to children under the age of 13. Swearing, adult themes and homosexual tendencies are examples of such themes. I am not held liable for any disturbances caused by anyone who chooses to read this work. I strongly advise you to find a different story if such themes disturb or discourage you. I wrote this early in the morning and it was all improv ideas. I hope you enjoy it and thank you for choosing this to read.

Understanding life: something I find this concept relatively difficult. People always say life and the like of it is complicated, especially for teenagers. Yet that is a major understatement. Things are neglected-always-like understanding emotion, ideas, paradigms. Teenagers go through all this; they feel emotion, they have brilliance and thought...and their paradigms conflict each other. Yet a few teenagers have it worse...

That is getting ahead of myself I suppose. Yet this is also where I want to be. Once again; confusion. I guess it all started around seventh grade...I don't know what triggered it...but something did. Perhaps puberty; perhaps thought, perhaps life itself. I cannot understand though, most people will claim they cannot understand either.

And there he was, Freddy Jones, the exact opposite of me. So sure about who he was. Then there was me, Zachary Mooneyham, the odd nerd who no one ever seemed to notice, errr, who no one seemed to think was alive.

Yes, by fifteen I was sure Freddy was being laid by every woman who walked by him in the halls, sat by him in the cafeteria or on the school bus or whatever. Young, handsome, articulate, brassy and everything a woman wants.

I'm not of course.

So here I was, sixteen years of age and my mind was terribly numb. Drops of mercury stained my face and my guitar was slung over my shoulder like a gun. I don't know what triggered it-but god-something did. My mind was throbbing, not with a headache, but with thought and dreams. My mind ached with confusion too...but that wasn't as mind numbing. I was trembling and shivering, drowning in my tears. I listened to myself and to the sirens which blared outside my window. Also the screaming downstairs. Everything was wrong-everything was fucked up.

I guess while I was strumming a wonderful song my thoughts drifted. I flashed back to when that Dewey Finn was my teacher-wow he taught me a lot; not just about music-but about life, too. I became more articulate myself, I found my true colors and I felt more expressive. I wasn't so ashamed at my scrawny self and I knew that I really did have musical talent. I may not have been the genius like Summer or the brassy stud like Freddy, but I guess I was someone...I hope.

Yet two years later I guess, well, life changed. See, I realized something...I realized...well...

I liked guys.

Yes, I realized I was a flaming homosexual, a closeted gay teenager with scorching hormones and a burning crush on Freddy.

Screwed up-a crush on a blatantly straight guy. Yes, that's not just a definition of my thoughts, thats a definition of me. I'm screwed up. I crush on straight guys. I have no hope of dating them or screwing them. I'll die a virgin.

So I end up falling asleep, crying-no-sobbing. Hell, I'm lamenting, rather it be soft crying or a rushing rain storm.

I'm sad, I'm depressed...hell, I'm gay.

At least I think I am. See, there's this struggle too. I've never been with anyone so I tell myself it's just a pubescent phase that will pass. More to deny it I think...but I've got myself believing it. At least I hope I do.

See this confusion now?

So I'm a gay kid who's not sure about being gay but thinks he'd like it up the butt.

Life is wonderful...for other people.

I digress.

My dreams flashed to Freddy, of course. God these dreams are reoccuring...they're beginning to scare me. We're, together. I guess that's a proper euphamism. We're both kissing, our motions scorching like a million summers all crammed into one minute moment.

I wake up not sure if I'm panting from horror at once again having a dream like this...or panting from arousal at once again having a dream like this.

More confusion in my mind.

So I count to ten, take a few breaths, close my eyes and cry again. Cry because I'm so fucked up in the mind and I love a guy and I'll be ostracized from society and if he ever found out about..._me_...he'd socially murder me. Yes, the entire school would banish me, even the teachers, and they're obligated to be nice.

"Oh, Zach? He's gay! Oh my God! HE'S GAY!"

Then of course the entireeee faculty room would explode in hysterical laughter and would ridicule me; figuratively speaking I would immediately be hanged or shot or whatever it is they do not adays.

So I fell back asleep.

I didn't wake up again...until the morning of course.

My cellphone woke me up-the alarm anyways. I wish someone called me, but no one calls me. No one cares enough to say, "Hi Zach!" I'm just the scrawny, near-anorexic child who is remarkable at the guitar. I'm noticed for that I guess, but not for anything else.

I just sit with my head down, sighing, listening to the lectures. People think I'm depressed and I'm ugly because I'm thin.

See what I mean? Now if I "came out" (digression-who ever chose that term anyways?) then, well, it would be worse. See people **would** notice me...but in the wrong way. Odds are I'd be raped in the bath room and no one would bother to help. People would watch, butttttt, with my luck, no one would care.

It's always me!

So I'm digressing again. I'm probably also being boring...but talking in the first person is fun. It sounds weird to say, "Zach Mooneyham said, 'So I'm digressing again. I'm probably also being boring...but talking in the first person is fun.' "

Wow...deja vu again, dammit!

So I shower and dress and all the things a normal teenager would do to prepare for school. I don't like calling myself normal becaues it makes me feel like I am-and homosexuals are, in societys perspective, not normal.

I think I'm a homosexual anyways.

Wow, homosexual sounds too proper. Let me rephrase this: I think I'm fucking gay!

That sounds more like a teenager. I guess that is good.

So I get to endure another long day of being in classes with Freddy; why I'm in classes with him I don't know. See, I took "advanced" classes, how he manages to pass eludes me. Yet I get to see him, but I get to cry over him again. My evening routine is always homework, dinner, shooting billiards, playing guitar, crying.

Always the same thing in my life-day after fucking day.

So I boarded the bus and sat next to a really cute blonde boy. Damn, I kept picturing Freddy's face on him...this was really stupid. Damn life, damn it! We talked for a little while and I tried not to stare at him with my overly large eyes. Yes, I felt my eyes were overly large, like some kind of insect which everyone wants to swat and kill.

Yes, that is me. Zack Mooneyham, the big-eyed homosexual insect. Free tickets and popcorn to the first six billion people who visit.

What a joke life is. I should stab myself repeatedly with bendy straws. I'll have to add that to my list of ways I want to suffer. I doubt I would die though, maybe, but I doubt it.

So, after digressing from writing this fucked up thing, I return to this cute boy. He notices I have this dreamy look in my eyes, (from digressing and losing myself in thought) and he asks what's wrong. I shake my head as the bus stops, and lone-behold, he boards the bus.

My heart begins to throb, I close my eyes and whistle, hoping he won't notice me. We're friends, yes, but he's also "popular". So of course when he does see me he just keeps walking, as if he didn't notice me. I flush, my flesh grows hot, my eyes are fevered and my soul goes numb.

Damn, shit, fuck...whatever other swear word I can articulate at this current moment.

So I try and fight this feeling and know I only have...god...seven hours to deal with him.

Yes, seven thirty until two thirty and then I'm away from him. It sounds weird that I want to stay away-but I hate thinking about something I can't hate. It makes me feel depressed and then I hit myself with spatulas. It's not a life worth living-even to the talented. Freddy has it easy, he gets laid by everyone. That's his talent. Mine is not being noticed and being good at the guitar.

So this boy goes off rattling about his new girl friend. Damn, does anyone else want to make me feel bad because I'm fucking gay and my options for romance are limited? I really don't mind, hell, I'll grow use to it...when I roll over and die.

So now I'm telling myself I'm gay. Ironic-I try and deny it, but I also support it. Much like when I take my acne medication. I deny that it helps, but I still take it. What the fuck is up with that? I really am screwed up!

Going to my first class, AP United States History, is, well, interesting. It's one of the classes I don't share with Freddy, so I'm very happy. I listen to a lecture on the Kansas-Nebraska Act and scribble notes accordingly. I realize something is wrong though when I'm dotting my I's with little hearts. Wow, that's very feminine. I scribble, "note to self: Don't let anyone notice this set of notes."

Though at least it's not like Summer who dots her eyes with mush room clouds that look remarkably like the clouds produced by atomic explosions. Yes, that is definitely weird.

"Mr. Mooneyham, please pay attention."

Huh? Waitta moment now, I'm paying attention, aren't I? Then I realize that my head is planted on the desk like a firmly rooted tree. Now I'll I need are birds and leaves and I'll finally accomplish my goal of no longer being human.

The leaves and birds of course do not come. So I raise my head and stop thinking about Freddy who came into my thoughts. Yes, that happens a lot. Especially at night, you know, when guys do what guys do.

More struggle of course, yes, more struggle.

My eyes drift to my teacher...damn, that's not good. I realize this and try and stop, I'm going insane. I stare at him, admiring him. He's young, twenty six years old, fresh out of Cornell. Single, no children. I wonder if he's gay.

Wow...I can't believe I'm having these thoughts. Especially about someone who is ten, yes ten years older than myself! It's barbaric, outlandish, morally wrong.

I wonder if I could seduce him.

Wow my conscience is on overdrive today. I admire his eyes as he goes on lecturing us. His voice drows me. My heart throbs again and I go numb-that feeling of not wanting to move. That feeling of utter relaxation, nirvana, whatever. I'm in the moment!

And I'm gay and having these thoughts I shouldn't. I don't feel alive. My eyes burn. My heart throbs. I think something is very wrong, everything in my life is so screwed up-my parents, my friends, (what friends?), my thoughts, my sexuality, me! My parents are divorced, I have no friends, I'm fucking gay and thinking of my teacher in the most crude and perverse manners possible!

I wonder if he'd like top or bottom.

Goshhhhh!

Then of course my thoughts return to Freddy. Better there than on my teacher. I think of Freddy, sprawled out, sweating, me telling him he's beautiful as I watch his breath like the sun rise and set. I listen to his voice swallow me.

I think to myself, "I want to kiss Freddy." I hope I'm not saying this out loud.

I'm not.

I hope I'm not anyways.

My thoughts develop even more. I become, well, horny, thinking of him. Just thinking of him-wishing I could have him, in bed, no, in my arms. Nude with me, noooooo, cuddling on the couch watching a movie.

With sexual plans later.

God I'm disturbed!

How I love him.

"MR MOONEYHAM! PAY ATTENTION!" the teacher scolds me, he's right up in front of me and I can see how wide his pupils are.

They absorb me. His lips are swollen and parted, his balding head reflects the shimmer of the lights. People are staring at me like I'm some spectacle. I don't understand why. I'm confused. I'm horny.

I think I'm in love...with a straight guy.

I can feel his eyes burn through me like acid and I could smell the burning drip out of his iris like someone left some acidic faucet on. Drip-drip-drip as it corroded my mind and soul. I've really pissed off Mr. Dalles. He doesn't like students laying their heads on the desk, he likes them blatantly attentive and learning, especially in AP.

So I blushed furiously and nodded. He went back up to the front of the room. "Now students, with Mr. Mooneyham's cooperation, while it lasts anyways, let us return to the Compromise of 1850. The importance of this on America is so significant that it radically altered our history. Much like a bill banning gay rights would do."

Wow, he had the nerve to say that? The bastard!

"See, America was essentially divided. The "North" or "free states" and the "South" or "slave states". States entered the Union quietly until Kansas and Nebraska, then, a territory, went to decide slavery and liberty. Needless to say violence ensued."

His voice went back to a drone as my thoughts returned to Freddy. The bell rang a moment later and quickly shattered his lucid dreams into a billion beautiful pieces. "You may be dismissed" Mr. Dalles said as he adjusted his glasses. I stood up and gathered my things to depart but Mr. Dalles gave me another acidic glare, this time with the addiction of ice.

"I want to have a word with you Mr. Mooneyham..."

I bowed my head. I did feel ashamed, I loved history and Mr. Dalles was a brilliant teacher. A Cornell graduate, PHD in political science. He was brilliant. I wasn't.

"Zack, I'm concerned for you. You haven't been attentive all week. It's Thursday and something is wrong. You're a good student, so what is it?..."

I shrugged, I couldn't tell my teacher I was gay and loved another boy. He'd laugh at me. Yet his eyes were drenching me in acid. I was burning up, I either had to leave and be castigated for insubordination, or talk.

I chose the latter. I shrugged, body language. He glared at me but the pupils of his eyes showed concern and not anger. "I...I don't really know. I just phase out, I've got a lot going on."

"Well Zaaack, you need to pay attention. The AP exam is in a few short months and we've all got to buck up. You can score a five on this exam, you're very intelligent. You've got a great talent with the guitar, but it's grades that take you places. You need to focus."

"I'm sorry, I just have a lot going on. Being a teenager is hard."

Oh yes, I bombed. I said those five little words. I felt my world shatter and I felt the shards of time cut into my skin. I tried to use the pity-party words, envoke sympathy from my teacher. 'Being a teenager is hard', yes, we all know it. Move on to the next teenager and hear his laments.

"I know it is Zack.", I thought he'd say that, "but you need to pay attention and take notes. I'm wondering if I should do a notebook check for a grade. You won't pass if your notes aren't good. Your notes reflect your attentiveness and your attentiveness reflects your goals. You tell me all the time you want to be successful. Yet Zack...you need to pay attention. Not just for me but all your subjects."

I was wondering if his little adage would ever end so I wouldn't be late for class, or if he'd keep spitting words out like fire crackers and hand grenades. He sounded like an officer in the army. 'You need to buck up and be a perfect person or you'll die out on the fields'

Well I was being slaughtered by the nation Dalles telling me that I'm not attentive. I had a 96 average.

My thoughts turned the number around.

Finally he let me leave. I sprinted down the halls so I wouldn't be late-too late, the bell rings. As I turn the corner I run head long into...Freddy.

I gasp and stumble after we smash together. My head feels like it was split open and he collapses to the ground hard. We're jostled and I'm confused. I see who it is and my heart dies. It just dies. I tremble in embarassment. His sleak blond hair is left disheaveled and he is staring at me, blinking.

"What the fuck!" he yells, throwning obscenities like grenades.

"I'm...I'm sorry." I lament, "I was trying to hurry to class."

"Well Mooneyham, slow the fuck down!"

I can taste blood from when I bit my lip. The metalic taste blends with my saliva and I swallow it. I can feel lead tears well up in my eyes like a dam about to break loose. All the while I'm sweating from just running into the boy I love. He stands up and stands so tall and beautifully. His lips are parted and his eyes are wide and hazel. Hazel like the dirt, the color of nature and life. Green and brown like leaves blown around in the wind during winter.

I'm falling for him. I'm falling into him.

He helps me stand up, I feel his clammy hands, so sweaty and wet. I wonder where his hand has been. Crude thoughts, but pleasing thoughts. I can smell his rich cologne, the remarkable smell of life.

"I-I'm sorry..." I tremble.

"I hope you're ok. Watch where you are running next time..." he says.

I slip into his voice, I love being blanketed by it. I want to kiss him right now. I want to push him into the bathroom and slowly undress him, moving my way down his torso as I undo his jeans.

I'm a perverted bastard.

I damn well know it too.

I trudge off to class, knowing I'm really late. My head hurts, my eyes are red and blurry with tears, I just ran right into the guy I love. What a shitty day.

So I'm struggling with myself as I arrive at class. I'm depressed, contemplating suicide perhaps. Everything is so wrong and the person who I care about can't care about me. When I enter the room I'm lectured about my tardiness and given detention. Even with my appologies I'm still given detention.

What the fuck!

The rest of the morning passes without much incident. Lunch comes and I'm at the table eating alone. Freddy comes up to the table and looks at me. "You're alone..." he mumbles.

"I know. I'm always alone, even when I was born there was a sign in my head that said welcome to existance. Population, you."

Freddy laughed at my stupid joke. "You're flustered. These past couple days you've seemed out of it. This past month you've drifted away from me."

Freddy sat down, next to me.

"We used to be friends..." I said.

"I know that, so what happened?"

"You became popular. You're always having girl friends, I'm always stuck to the same fucking routine. My life sucks, your life is brilliant, you seem to hate me because you have friends and I don't and you think you are so fucking cool!"

I'm yelling and I hardly realize it. I want to yell though, I want to let all this emotion ripple through my ebulliency and frustration. I want to scream and punch him, I want to make him feel just as hurt as I feel. I want to make him cry and run away from me, like he's pushed me away from him.

"Whoah, calm down!" he says. His reaction is ironic, it takes me by such surprise. I expect him to either yell back or leave, saying "fuck you man!"

Yet he just continues eating his hot dog as if nothing mattered.

He's eating a hot dog...ironic.

I'm sorry, I'm pissed, there's a lot going out and I've had one hell of a fucked up day.

Well, Mr. goodattheguitarandacademics, my life isn't as remarkable as you seem to assume it is. I'm not laid by every girl who comes under my nose like I tell people. I have friends, yes. Yet you seem adament about not making friends-sitting alone every day all year. Staying to yourself, not bothering to get out. I have friends because I cared enough to have friends. Good looks help, yes, but it's the desperation. It was Einstein who stated, "success is one part inspiration. Nine parts desperation"...

I blushed, I felt embarassed now. He's right, he's always right.

"Dude, you got to stop moping. Do something, take action instead of crying."

I sighed. "You're right...it's just that I have a lot of shit going on."

"That's not an excuse, so do I. Yet I don't cry about it. I make the best."

I bowed my head and just stared at my food, tears welling up. I was a sissy, I wanted to cry. He's right, I'm a coward.

He put his arm on my shoulder. "Just be positive. Sit with my friends and I, laugh with us, have a good time and for Heaven's sake put the fucking books away for a period!"

He smiled and I smiled back, wiping a lead tear away. It was heavy like my soul.

"And if you want someone to talk to...I'm here."

I grinned again and felt lighter. He cared about me...he didn't think I was just some walking corpse. He knew I had life and soul. Even if he was popular and I was just a lonely book nerd.

You may be wondering why I havent mentioned our band relationship. He ended up falling away from the band. He lost interest I guess. He said it was too strenuous and he needed to learn to breathe again. I think it was because he had a girl friend and he wanted to screw her more.

I just stared at him for a moment, losing myself inbetween the walls of reality. I watched as he chewed his gum. My eyes glazed over like a snow globe that had just been shaken. I became misty-eyed and I began to fantasize about the boy sitting next to me. He was still holding my shoulder, his eyes wide and caring. I wanted to touch his cheek, or his legs, or something. I wanted him to hold me and I wanted to sob. I wanted him to tell me everything was alright and that it was ok to be gay and there was nothing wrong with it and that it was socially acceptable. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me just as much as I loved him. I wanted him to tell me that dreams do come true. I wanted this to be something from Romeo and Juliet, forbidden love and trust. Undying love and trust. I wanted our heart beats to be drunken. I wanted to trace his face in the constellations and have the smile be at Orions Belt because those are the three brightest stars. I wanted to sleep with him on our teardrops and on the stars, undress him with the silence of our love.

I wanted him, I needed him like I needed oxygen and bio nutrients. I adored him with every part of my soul and I wanted him there, forever and always. I loved him, everything about him. His words, his smile, his skin and body, his talent at the drums. I cared about him like he cared about me. Yet my love was just one way. He bore none of it for me.

I really did begin to cry. Great drops of mercury and lead spilled from my eyes, intoxicating me. I trembled and set my head on the table, sobbing and lamenting in public. I felt like an idiot but I didn't care. Freddy began to rub my back, whispering things to me. People were staring but he ignored it. He tried to comfort me, he tried to help me. He was being a friend. Yet I wanted more than a friend. I wanted someone to tell me that they love me, someone to tell me that they care. He wouldn't say that. He's straight I thought, he's straight and a homophobic. He'd recoil if I told him what had been plastered to my soul. What had dissolved me like paper in water, cookies in milk, metal in acid.

I suddenly wanted to tell him-so he'd know-so he'd understand. I couldn't though. I kept crying and sobbing until I began to speak.

"Everything is so fucked up...everything is so wrong."

He raised my head with his hands. My eyes were beet red, my lips were trembling and my face was wet with tears. He looked at me with his wonderful hazel eyes and just stared at me. I felt my world crash and my soul vibrate like an earthquake. I felt I was hallucinating about comets smashing into my mind, breaking me apart and everything I knew. I felt dead in a way, but alive with Freddy. For this one instantaneous moment I would have taken a bullet for him. I felt my soul tremble and combust as I broke down in tears even more. I cried on his chest, holding both shoulders, digging my fingers into the fabric of his clothing. I could hear the rythm of his heart, the thud of his life. I wanted to hold his heart forever.

"Lets go someplace else so we can talk..." he said. "You need to talk to someone."

I shook my head. I didn't want to talk because I knew I'd tell him this painful secret. Yet my soul was aflame, burning in agony with years of caged torture suddenly released and spilling from my soul and mind. "Yes" he said soothingly, "lets go talk..."

He picked me up and helped me stand up. I swayed, dizzy with my tears. He guided me out of the cafeteria and towards a bathroom. We entered and he checked to make sure no one else was in it. He seemed to think this would be private.

I sniffled as snot leaked out of my nose. My eyes were a deep red and I looked like a skinny, pale mess. Freddy fetched me some tissue so I could blow my nose and I thanked him. He looked at me with his beautiful eyes so full of care and brightness. Not red and full of guilt and depression like mine.

"My..." I said.

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned against a stall, giving me time to speak. I had never seen him this caring, this sympathetic. It was weird, very weird. Normally he left people to their own problems, but he cared about me.

"We've been good friends at one point..." I said, stumbling on my words.

He nodded, "That we have."

"Bu-bu-but things have changed."

"Yes indeed." His words were laconic.

"My family is fucked up and my parents might divorce. My father is drinking and yells at me for playing my guitar. He says it's not healthy and I won't get anywhere with that kind of talent. Music goes no place."

"Fucking asshole" Freddy said. I waited to see if he'd say anything but he just closed his eyes and let me go on.

My breathing grew deeper. "School is getting hard...two fucking AP courses and I'm only a Sophomore. I'm expected to know all this complicated shit and I can't keep up. I'm falling behind in my studies and trying to keep up on billiards and guitar. It's not working out. One and one is not equalling two."

"So you should know how to fix this." Freddy said. "You need to decide what means a lot to you then sacrifice what doesn't. Music and billiards or your education. You won't be valedictorian so you can give that up, Summer is way too good."

"I don't give a fuck about being valedictorian!" I suddenly snapped.

Freddy looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Dude, cool down."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, I'm just frusterated."

"This can't be all that's bothering you..." Freddy said.

"It's not. There's more."

"Go on then..." Freddy thought for a moment, then added, "please." He was never one for manners.

"Also, ever since eighth grade...welll, I knew I was different. Not because I'm a scrawny boy who comes across as depressed. Not because I don't have friends and I isolate myself."

"Just speak up!" Freddy demanded.

I bowed my head. I couldn't tell...there was no way. I'd ruin my life, I'd ruin everything I had. I'd have to run away, become a Nomad and harvest the land, reaping it of it's minerals and resources. I'd become a coward, castigated for my sexuality.

The silence grew longer and more awkward. Each second became more difficult to breathe in. I knew I'd have to say it...

"I'm gay."

The words vibrated and echoed, but I still didn't seem to hear them correctly. They sounded weird and stupid and I didn't think it was my voice. If it was I hated it, I abhored it for saying those two little words. Those two fucking words.

"What?" Freddy said.

I knew he heard me...I couldn't say it again. The words are too difficult, I choke on them, they clog my breathing.

He looked at me, blinking. Here I was telling one of the most popular guys in school that I was gay. Telling the guy I loved that I was gay, alone with him in a school bathroom. Here I was confessing myself to an ultra-homophobe that I liked dick up my ass. That I liked dick in my mouth. That I liked men.

He just blinked. I wish I could have read his mind, knew what he was thinking; what his reaction was. His face was screwed up. I couldn't tell what he felt about this.

"Wow..." he finally said, shattering the screaming silence. "Yes...wow."

I felt ashamed. I began to hit my head against the wall. The pain seared but I ignored it. He grabbed me and stopped me. I began to cry hysterically as I felt small droplets of blood careen down my face. I sat down and put my head between my knees and cried and cried and cried. He just watched me.

"Oh Zack..." he said.

"I hate myself!" I screamed. "I'm a fucking fag!"

He blinked and walked over to my side, sitting down next to me.

I looked at him and screamed, "I want to kill myself!"

He blinked and frowned then placed his hand in my hair, rubbing it. Partly to straighten it and mostly out of sympathy. I felt my nerves spark in pain as his hand contacted the regions on my head from beating myself against the wall.

"You shouldn't say that." he said as he looked deep into my soul. He then embraced me and just hugged me.

I felt myself lighten a little. The guy I truly loved, yes, loved, was holding me. He was listening to me as a friend, he was caring about me.

"Who cares if you're gay..." he said, once again breaking the tear-filled silence.

My breathing was heavy. I whimpered. "I do..." I gasped in tears.

"You shouldn't. It's just your sexual desires, it's not your personality. So you like it up the ass. So you like sleeping with men. The thing is, men comfort you, men will care about you as you will care about other men. People can't hate you for who you care about and love and trust and respect."

I continued to weep hysterically. I felt so ashamed of myself and so embarassed, yet I need my crying time too. "If people at school found out, they'd...someone would probably kill me."

Freddy looked at me and blinked. "Pfffft" he said. "I doubt it. I doubt they'd give a flying damn. They might give you some shit for a brief time...but...outside of that, there's nothing wrong."

"Right, except you're popular and the people you hang out with are raging homophobics.

"They are...that's why they don't know about me."

The moment died, irony breathed and my jaw dropped. The silence rang like a gong and screamed like a million throbbing, burning years, exploding and rippling like the birth of space and time. My ears rang loudly at these words.

"Yes, I am gay too...people think I'm straight because of my relationships but I've never had sex. I've always made up some lame-ass excuse to get out of it. I've come close, but I've always stopped it. Women aren't right, but I have to date them or people would get suspicious. That's why being popular sucks!"

I gazed at him, not believing him at all. The boy I loved just confessed his own homosexuality to me.

"I know this was hard for you. It's easier for me because I've long come to grips with myself. I know it is nothing, I am still Freddy Jones, hot stud, amazing drum player and egostical fuck. You still seem to have to think about things, organize your thoughts about your desires and dreams. Love and sex are big deals, big changes. Coming out is a small part of this...being with someone is the part where you need to be sure of life and love."

I listened to him, dissolving in his words. I felt so happy that finally I might have a chance with him. Finally I might be able to love him.

"Love changes you. It's a big thing. Dating, hugging, kissing, fucking are big events. Your first kiss, your first fuck. We both have things to learn-even if I have been with people."

I sighed and knew that he'd think me inexperienced and immature. My heart throbbed though as I listened to his words, his melody. I felt hot and feverish, I felt dizzy with life's song ringing in my ears. Here was the boy I loved telling me he was gay. Telling me all this stuff.

I looked at him and dried my tears with my hands. "I know...you've been with a lot of people...but I've always only wanted to be with one."

He raised an eyebrow but seemed to know what was coming. "I've wanted you too..." he responded.


	2. Silence, teardrops and I love you

There was a raw, perpetual silence so potent that it seemed all of a screaming history had suddenly been silenced-scorching lives had paused in one brief moment. The seconds dilated, swelling to fit entire years into one suddenly swelling, heaving moment. There was a brief pause of life before the seconds splintered and vomited a great rush of events. There was a tremendous scream inside my mind as billions of years of life collapsed into one moment; an upheaval of events and thoughts compressed into one inhalation than released over me in a great gale of occurances.

I gazed dumbstruck at him, my heart throbbing, my mind hissing and frothing. I felt blind and fevered, intoxicated in his words. My mind pulsed in swollen confusion. I could taste the acid and sparks of grinding metal. The bitter and unpleasent taste extending far beneath my taste buds, into my soul. A moment later I was tasting his lips-smooth, velvety, swollen lips-slowly gliding across mine, expertly. I recoiled and gasped, my eyes wide. My heart beat like a million storms splitting the horizon. I felt his breathing wash over me as his tongue forced it's way into my mouth. I could feel the wet muscle navigate my mouth, sliding over my tongue, washing over my teeth, plunging down my throat like an asp. As awkward and weird as the feeling was, it was intoxicating and breath-taking. I shuddered as his hands grasped my face, pulling me in, drowning me in his own face. This was all new-my first kiss-with a guy. What the fuck was happening? I closed my eyes and began to feed into the kiss, hoping I was doing what I should be doing.

My mind pulsed angrilly at the sensations, sending sparks through my body, numbing, shocking sparks of acid and bitter electricity. I felt my entire body respond as it was jolted by sixteen years of virginity, sixteen years of pureness suddenly interrupted by raw lips; powerful emotions slipping down my spine.

Then he broke it.

"I hope..." he gasped, panting; flushed and red-faced, his eyes glazed and shimmering.

We kissed again, hard, fast, impatient. A thousand emotions barelled through my drunken brain. The kiss broke again.

"We can make things work..." another gasp broke the sentence.

The kiss began again; just as feverish and hot, just as mind-numbing and electrical. I gasped as he slid me down onto my back and straddled me. He pushed me against the wall as I felt myself sweat with hope and fear. Liquid emotion spewed out of me and slid down my face and body, staining my clothes in raw emotion. My breathing quickened as I fed into the kiss; our mouths in motion like a ballerina-graceful and fast. I began to nibble on his lower lip, seeing it done in films and television shows. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the hot wires of his hair prickle and receive the electrical current of our kiss. I felt my penis harden under my pants and boxers; the tight, throbbing pressure of my erection becoming painful, constrained in my jeans. I could feel a bulge press into my leg as he hardened under the experience. I groaned and wanted to screw him but I knew it would be wrong and illegal in public. I felt also I should tell my parents. I grew hornier but a moment later he disconnected the kiss, leaving me numb and vibrating from a breathing cold. He gazed at me, into me. "Zaaack..."

I panted, I wanted more. "Oh Freddy..."

My eyes swelled, welling with water and ice and fog, all swirling until finally wine spilled; hard, fast tears spilling from my soul. Heavy, fruitful drops staining my face. He hugged me and held me, cradling me as if I were some newborn lobbed into a restless, upheavaled world so unfamiliar, so obscure and so abstract. He kissed my forehead tenderly and lovingly. I smiled at him and held the back of his head, feeling the wires of his hair, so soft and tangible.

Here I was in the bathroom holding my new boyfriend-the one guy I had crushed on for years-ever since I realized my sexuality. We had just kissed furiously, passionately, my first kiss, a deep, true kiss of swollen seconds and love. My thoughts burnt white like a numb flame, shaking and vibrating like an earthquake.

"I-I-" I stuttered, unable to grasp words.

He just smiled and waitied, patiently, his eyes searching mine. I found words, what little words I could anyways. "I wou-wou-would like to da-date you..." I choked.

He smiled warmly and stood up. He extended a hand to pull my mind up; to pull my soul up. I felt my soul flare in burning white, I felt high on adrenaline, dizzy, scorched and raw with fever. I felt my universe blink, fold and evaporate and then there was nothing but him and I, bonded by ties of space and time, a bridge of two parallel universes-so far apart-so different-but so tangible. Finally my searing, white thoughts dissolved into some blissful oblivion.

I stood up and looked at him, his face was flushed, his breathing just as quick and ragged as mine. We hugged and hugged and hugged, holding each other through the once again dialating breath of silence and time until it ruptured with the gush of the school bell dismissing the classes. We broke apart, deciding to meet up tomorrow for a movie.

We stepped out of the bathroom-both of our lives radically altered-we stepped into another dimension of breath and life and white dreams. We walked together down to the cafeteria to grab our school bags and books as the halls sucked the students out of the large room and squeezed them to their destination class rooms, funneling them and assorting them by friends like a giant centrifuge.

Freddy and I said goodbye as we headed seperate ways, sucked down the halls by some gravitational force of need-need to get to class without being late. I hurried to my study hall period, pushing through groups of students of all assortments. Students holding hands in some numb quiet, gripping tightly to a relationship of unhappiness and pain yet trying to squeeze pain through the fingers; numb it until it vibrates and becomes something else-something more real or at least tangible. Students who stand in the starched silence of their minds, walking like a robotic being class to class. Students who's laughter and voices echoed on stone and lead, kissing ash and radiation as they spread diseased gossip about others for the benefit of a thrill.

The lights of the hallways winked at me and flared as I was continually sucked towards my study hall; the walls expanding and contracting like an esophogus, swallowing us continually. Suddenly the empty silence in my mind cracked and shattered as I heard my name shouted over a river of bobbing heads which spilled into a massive ocean of lies, rumors and fake laughter. "Zaack!"

It was a female voice; a high-pitched, graceful yet dominating female voice. I heard hurried breaths and footsteps rush towards me in great gales of fevered wind. Summer Hathaway was soon standing at my side, clutching a large pile of books firmly in her hand-her only lover-her only marriage. "Have you been to chemistry yet?" she breathed.

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head, "No Summerrrr" I droned. I wasn't in the mood for conversation, I was too happy.

"We get that essay back...that one we wrote about equillibrium last week."

"Oh, we do?"

"Yes, I only got an eight. I was sad. You probably got a nine I bet."

I laughed, me? Get a perfect score on something? I might have been ranked in the top ten but still. "I doubt it." I remarked.

She laughed, a real laugh-not fake just to pin needles into a living voodoo doll. A laugh of liquid and not needles. I listened to Summer. As much as we opposed each other academically we remained best friends. She was one of the few people I talked to; yet she was so busy it was still rare. I was always busy myself. Constantly achingly busy.

"Why did you only score an eight?"

"Because Mr. Nobel says I didn't support my argument well enough for a nine. Damn, I only score a 95..."

I laughed. "Honey, we're Sophomores taking chemistry-a junior level class. A 95 is really good...stop complaining."

"I'm not complaining!" she hissed, "but I really wanted a 9 on that essay."

"You know he rarely gives 9's."

"I know that, but still."

I laughed as I neared the classroom. The tunnel spilled students at the according locations; dropping them into the pools of their classrooms so their minds could simmer and bake for fourty minutes. "Sooo, are you busy tomorrow night?" Summer asked.

I nodded. "Why is it you ask?"

"I wanted to go see a movie. I heard that documentary "An Inconvienent Truth" is supposed to be really powerful.

"Oh...yes. I heard about that too. It does sound really awesome."

"You're busy though, so nevermind. I'd want to see that with you because you love science so much."

I laughed, "Sure..."

She smiled and I smiled back. A true smile to someone else; not fake, forced by a million microfilaments relaying sparks to my brain to twist the metal muscles into a smile.

"Well I said. I'll see you later!" and I was spilled into my classroom.

The lights were shut off, keeping the room in a stasis blackness. The squawking voices of those who had arrived stirred the room. My study hall proctor, Mr. Mach, a math teacher, was seated at his desk on the computer. He was an aged, short, balding man with a consistent wheeze and cough. The top of his head seemed polished to reflect things like glass. His blue, beady eyes seemed sucked into his head and his voice was crackly as he taught complicated mathematical formulas and theories. I'd have him for calculus when I was a senior. If he wasn't retired.

I went over to the desk. "Hello Mr. Mach." I said softly.

He turned to me, "Good day Zack. How are you?" he said in his squeaking voice.

"I'm well, and what about yourself?"

"Can't complain. Are you off to the library again today?"

I nodded, "Yes, I am."

"Alright" he squeaked, "You can just head down there."

I nodded and thanked him. I adjusted the straps on my backpack and held a couple textbooks closer to my chest to quiet my throbbing heart as I hustled down the halls. They weren't squeezing me with gravity anymore, instead I was floating through a near empty tunnel. There were some late students who were straggling and rushing to hurry towards class, then the students who skipped class; then the students who were floating in time to reach some destination other than their class. I felt my feet carry me to the school library; feet not controlled by my mind. The halls now were almost silent; dust seemed ready to collect on the walls and swallow voices for a moment before being lobbed back into the thin air. I could hear classes, the lectures like radio transmissions gurgling before fading out, a new one beginning.

I arrived at the school library and entered. The silence rang softly in my ears as I found a table next to Ryan Collins. A short, red headed kid in my grade, a class rank above mine. He was a book nerd who had his face buried in A Tale of Two Cities. I stared at him. He was one of the few friends I actually did have. "Hey, Ryan!" I whispered. He jumped at breathed and looked at me, blinking like a child. "Zack..." he said, "Don't scare me like that please."

"Sorry."

He nodded and I seated myself at the maple-wood table. I set my heavy bag on the table and unzipped it as quietly as possible, withdrawing it's solid stomach of textbooks, pencils and folders. I had a lot of homework I wanted to get done. "So how is your day so far?" Ryan asked softly.

I nodded, "I have seen better days pass me by in haze. What about yourself?"

He shrugged. "My girlfriend dumped me today. We have been bickering for a week and finally our relationship snapped. So I'm a sodden mess."

I frowned, "I'm sorry to hear that."

He looked at me and smiled. "It's alright. Sometimes I wish I could close my eyes and turn gay. I think a relationship would go better." He chuckled. The dramatic irony breathed and burned. I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him or not, I knew he would keep it quiet. Yet before I could stop it it lurched from my mouth.

He looked at me, wide-eyed. The thing I didn't want to tell, ever, I had told two people in ten minutes. He coughed and sputtered. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm gay..." I sighed.

I didn't like admitting it, but it was a truth I had to live with; a truth which lived inside me. The moment breathed and began to swell in aching silence before finally being punctured and deflating with a clap. "How long have you known this?..." he asked, looking up from his book.

"A couple years." My responses were laconic.

"Right" he said. "So now you're coming out...?" he asked. His voice seemed bitter.

I nodded, "I guess..." I sounded defeated; even if I had a boyfriend.

"You guess. You have to make a decision. Do you want people to find out or do you want to be pussilanimous and hide it all your life?"

"I'm not sure..." I responded as I sifted through papers in my AP Language folder.

"Hmmm..." he said and he smiled warmly. "Well I'd be sure about yourself before you do jump into the frying pan. I might accept you but a lot of students will not."

I nodded. "I don't care really. I'm not ever going to see most of these people; and odds are I'm going to be successfull anyways, with or without their help."

He nodded as his eyes flashed through the page. There was a long, dead silence. I breathed heavily as I read the assignment page for today's AP Language homework. I had to choose a quote from a book, choose two other books and write a Comparative Lens essay expressing that quote and how they relate to those pieces of literature. It was due tomorrow. Wow, easy topic.

"Wow, this essay topic is easy."

Ryan chuckled. "I know it is. It's almost as if we're not in AP. We're both Sophomores too which makes it somewhat laughable. Though English Literature next year will definitely be harder. Poetry bootcamp the juniors call it."

I chuckled. "I can't believe the AP exams are only half a year away."

"I can." he responded. "I just hope I'm ready for them."

I set to work on my essay, leaving the conversation to writhe.

_"Gatsby believed in the green light. The orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then but that's no matter-for tomorrow we will run faster-stretch out our arms further-and one fine morning._

_So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."_

Yes, the quote from the end of F. Scott Fitzgeralds beautiful, The Great Gatsby. I loved this quote and it expressed so much about dreams and life. I decided to use The Awakening and Fahrenheit 451. I guess that quote pertained to both books; struggle and finding goals-a passion for something met by consequence and barriers.

I swallowed as I began to postulate a rough draft. I felt my pen slide across the paper, putting thoughts into words, words melting into paragraphs. Ryan set the book down and watched me feverishly write before he took out a textbook and began to read.

The rest of the period was spent in a trembling silence which became torpid; it's shallow breathing fading away until the only sounds were coughs, feet and the shuffle of paper. The library seemed comatose; as if it had shut down. Even the hum of machinery pulsing in my brain had seemed to grind to a burning halt. I just wrote and listened to nothing; dissolving in my thoughts. Seconds which once erupted in oblivion seemed to dialate and freeze until time held a flickering stasis. Each moment seemed to last for forever; a painful forever of screeching moments dragging on-until even thoughts seemed chained and tied together by gravity-hanging and swaying in the wind of some stasis dream, swelling and shaking; silent sceams and dying dreams which built like rising culomoniumbus clouds- stacking like cards building ever higher- rows of hushed seconds being erected like dominos until some now incomprehensible forced threatened to breathe just a little and collapse, shoving each second into a cascade until fire erupted out of the icy silence and engulfed everything-lobbing the seconds like cannonballs to create a screaming gale-a fever-a single moment to crash like a burning comet. Each second grew longer as everything; including the galaxies and the stars and planets and atoms and quarks and hadrons vibrated with no sound, just vibrating, shaking, trembling with cold.

I breathed suddenly to crack this silence and everything spilled in ice and flame and screams and it seemed blank stares all lifted out of the ground to gaze at me with tear-filled eyes and cracking this silence. Blanched, bloody-eyed, zombified faces all risen from some grave of silence. Yet it was only Ryan who stared at me. I coughed as I set my pen down with a gentle thud so loud it echoed across the walls of time. Scriptures seemed to crack and fall apart and canyons crumbled into vast rivers, swallowed into a void of nothingness.

Or so dreams were that way. I seemed to snap back to some dim reality, breaking away from thought. I was still elated over what occured in the bathroom. My heart still beat like tribal drums, my eyes were still stained with wine, my soul was still light and alive. I had a boyfriend; a boyfriend who I had crushed on for years. I felt alive-better than I had ever felt before. I felt as if finally I was someone.

"So are you in a relationship?"

I shrugged. I definitely did not want to feel responsible for crashing Freddy's social status. I could not forgive myself for that atrocity. Ryan raised an eyebrow, staring at me. I shrugged again. "Kind of" I finally said.

Ryan set the textbook down and leaned back in his chair. His shirt lifted a little so I could see his lower stomach. I closed my eyes for an elongated blink. "Who is it?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

"Just someone" I was trying to be general.

"Whooooo?" he asked again.

"Just a kid?"

"Well I know that. You're not going to be dating a thirty year old. That'd be gross anyways."

"Yes, I know. And it's not important so just drop it, alright?"

My voice snapped, perhaps louder and angrier than I should.

He frowned. "Alright, I'm sorry"

"Whatever"

Silence took command again as he read. I felt ashamed for my childish way of acting, but I wasn't going to crash Freddy's reputation in school. Not until he was ready. No, not until he was ready.

I looked up at the clock, the period was almost over. I began to pack my things and get ready. I looked at Ryan. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to talk about it right now. He doesn't want it to be known. You'll find out eventually."

He looked at me and blinked. "It's alright. Sorry for begging but I'd be curious to know."

I nodded and we shook hands. "Have a good rest of your day" he stated.

"Yeah, totally, same with you!"

I walked over to the door as the bell shrieked and whistled, drenching the building in liquid sound which rippled eternally. I hurried to chemistry.

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Summer was right, I was given a perfect 9 on my essay. I felt very pleased with myself. The sky was a shimmering blue when I finally trudged outside. The sun was warm and bathed me in it's liquid light. Whispy clouds fleeted in a losing war against the blue sky; the white appearing so beautiful in the sky. A cool October wind blew leaves across the ground and swayed the trees. The hum of traffic and students excited to be away from school echoed in the afternoon.

Freddy came running up behind me as I was walking; panting and gazing at me. I smiled and looked at him, happy he was my boyfriend. "Heyyyy" I said.

"'Sup" he responded. "How was your day?"

I laughed. "It was a tragedy I guess. The morning was shitty."

Freddy laughed loudly and looked into my face. "Why?" he asked soothingly.

"One of those days. I was lamenting and thinking of you most of the morning. Mr. Dalles wanted to castigate me."

"Damn Zack, stop using such big words around me. I'm simple minded!'

I chuckled and smiled, "He wanted to punish me."

"Now that's better. I'm not smart like you are. I'm just sexy."

I grinned and looked at the sun. Even the Earth was smiling and laughing along with me. The air was warm and molded around me, hugging me. The birds sang their fall song and the wind sang along too as the planet breathed slow and deep.

"Thaaat you are my friend. That you are."

He kissed me quickly on the cheek and I felt my heart lighten considerably. I was happy we were far enough away from the school that no one was going to give awkard looks and then harass us. There were a few students ahead of us but they were so enthralled in conversation about a Biology lab that they weren't listening to Freddy and I.

"So do you know your class ranking anyways?"

"I'm fourth."

Freddy whistled. "Daaaaamn. I wish I was as smart as you."

I laughed. "I just read a lot. That's all."

"Yeah, well, you've still gotta have intelligence."

"It's Summer that has the intelligence. She's a brainiac. You know me, I'm always reading."

"Yeah..."

"You're always playing those fucking drums."

He chuckled. "I know. I'm good too."

"I'm good at the guitar."

He punched me. "No you're not!" he grinned.

"You're right. I'm a failure."

"What makes you good at so much?" he asked.

"What makes you have a million girlfriends?"

"Wow, touche. Putting the monkey on my back now, eh?"

"I am."

"So how's the band going?"

"It's going alright. Dewey insists we meet and practice more often. I'm trying to do as much homework as I can during the school day."

"I don't blame you. I remember when I was in it-we practiced so much. I miss those days."

There was a small, stiff silence. It was bleached the color of the clouds. "You should get back in."

"I doubt I can."

"Why did you quit anyways?" I asked.

"Karen Rosenberg and I were dating. She wanted a lot of my time."

"I would think so. She's quite selfish."

Freddy laughed. "Damn right, I was going poor and I don't have a job."

"I do" I jabbed at him.

"Don't you feel special?"

We walked on and stared at each other, admiring each other. We enjoyed the final warm breaths of fall before winter decided to grasp us in it's icy gaze, swallowing us into a void of ice and snow and cold and complaints.

"Yes, yes I do." I said.

"You want to come over?" I asked softly. "We can watch T.V before I have to go to band practice. You should come along and see if Dewey will let you rejoin."

"Sure" he said softly.

I looked at him. "Though I don't want to do anything..." I suddenly said. "Not yet."

"I didn't think so. Not that I wanted to either but still..."

"That includes kissing!" I said jokingly.

He looked mortified. "Oh my God!" He staggered and went bleach white.

I laughed loudly as we turned down another street. He hit me lightly and coyly on the head and looked at me. "Damn, I thought I'd have a chance with you!"

"Nah. I'd really like to tell my parents before we did anything serious."

He raised an eyebrow. "That would be a good idea."

"I know it would be. That's why I'm going to do it."

He grinned. "We can still kiss and date can't we?"

"Yeah, but no sex. No matter how much you or I want it. We're both perverted teenagers but what the hell."

He looked at me. "I agree."

His blond hair was fluttering in the wind. I just watched it and my eyes glazed over. Finally I had a boyfriend. It was too good to be true.


End file.
